So Help Me God
by Smileyfacedudet
Summary: Life is already complicated enough with the normal things teenage girls tend to worry about, but sadly for Lily Evans, she has to worry about James Potter too. Plus, lately, there have been signs of a werewolf at Hogwarts. What's a girl to do?
1. Bugger Off, Potter

**Muhahahahaha**…**.I have returned! And—my work is not crap this time! My name is Smileyfacedudet and I'm too sexy for my pantz! So you are about to venture into the great story of…**

**Summary: _Alas! My trouble with the Marauders, especially with Mr. Pot-head, continues, and I, an innocent little flower… _.:Lily Evans has always been greatly irritated by the Marauders, particularly James Potter. This story, starting in their sixth year at Hogwarts** **School** **of wizardry one month before the Christmas holiday, tells about how she copes with these trouble makers and finds herself entangled in a deep mystery. This mystery includes her theory of a student or teacher at Hogwarts being a werewolf…She just doesn't know who.**

The sun shone brightly into the great window in the halls of the enchanted castle. Blazing in on the students who scattered by, the same sun glared down upon four sixteen year old boys who were almost certainly up to no good. Laughing, they stood ever so pleasantly, not aware of the sun glaring down so heavily upon their mischievous yet angelic faces. They all had dismissed the fact that it was a late Thursday afternoon and, lazily poised, talked about only the Lord knows what. One was pointing at the lake containing the giant squid making odd hand gestures, hard to understand without hearing the actual words accompanying the gestures.

This one, who started to pretend choking himself, obviously making alien-like gagging noises too, was tall, lean, and handsome. He had coal black hair with the same color glistening in his eyes. Yes, true to all the girls at this strange school where misgiving things tended to happen, he was quite the looker. Only a few girls, who were at the disadvantage, were not whatsoever charmed by his quick, sly smile and sneaky hands.

The next boy standing next to the "quite the looker" one was somewhat short, a bit chubby, but not as bad looking as some other boys his age. Brown hair plastered to his face in a curly boyish style, for he _was _the youngest of the four friends. He did have a nose that seemed a bit too small for his young face and he seemed to let out too many odd squeaks, especially around the female gender.

Standing next to the "odd squeaking" boy, and a bit off to the side, as if he were on the sidelines of an athletic game, was another boy with blonde hair. His hair was not as long as the "quite a looker" boy, whose hair stood as a fancy wave about an inch above his shoulders, but it still, had a handsome feature to it. Hidden beneath the shirt he was wearing could have been some nice muscles, but his quiet and secretive eyes stood as a reason for hiding them—he did not want to be noticed, but preferred to be overshadowed by his friends.

Lastly, standing between the "preferred to be overshadowed" boy and the "quite the looker" boy, was a tall, handsome boy with wonderful features. Like the "quite the looker" boy, he too had magical charm, but unlike the "odd squeaking" boy—he was very familiar with the female population in such a different way. Jet black hair crowned his head, but it was not tidy whatsoever, seeing that a large, pretty—yes, hands _could _be pretty!—hand ran through it often during the day, and possibly when he was unconscious as well. Dazzling hazel eyes were hidden beneath the sleek, kind of cool looking glasses.

The sun especially glared down with absolute rage at this one. What a horrid boy he was, just horrible! All of nature frowned at the damage he had caused throughout his years at Hogwarts. How could anybody actually _like _such an airhead? Well, he wasn't really an airhead, seeing that he always passed his classes with flying scores even though students rarely saw him study.

"Er, Lily. Are you alright?" I realized that I had been glaring out the window as if I was in some contest.

"Lily…."

I look up to see Alice standing a couple feet away, staring at me oddly—_yes, my precious._ Right…Well then. That was not my highest moment of the day. I look unblinkingly into her eyes, realizing I must have gone into another of my strange rants about…_that boy. _"Yes, Ali," I say calmly, for we, her lovely yet odd friends, call her Ali instead of her given name: Alice. "I am quite fine." She cautiously looks from me to the window, making sure I really am fine, before walking gracefully back to her chair by the fire and, cuddling up into a comfortable position, begins reading in her book where she left off when she came to check on me.

Alice Harlem is a slim, tall, light brown-haired girl. She has a nice gracious tan, that I ever so dearly desire, and she has huge, gorgeous brown eyes. Graceful as a swan, she is, and if she had an animagus, it would be a swan. A sigh escapes my lips as I watch her lovely face entranced with the book, and her beautiful, red lips barely mouth each of the words. Oh, if only I were as beautiful as she—but no I'm but an ugly carrot. Short and stocky with my head afire: yep, that sure as bloody hell is me!

Disheartened, I looked out the window again, only to find the four boys, who would almost certainly be up to no good, gone. They were the Marauders. Catchy name, huh? Well, it fits them perfectly. Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and—oh!—that James Bloody Potter. Peter was a sweet boy, who would be on my good list if only he hadn't attached his nice little self to the boys. Remus Lupin was hard not to like—he was just, well, likeable. Anybody who had the tiniest fragment of a heart would instantly fall in love with him. _I _just could not figure out why he hung around with the rest, but even so he is a Prefect and somewhat of a friend to me. Now, Sirius Black—what a conniving little devil! His favorite hobby was to snog off the mouths of poor, innocent girls who most certainly needed a visit to the cuckoo's nest for even letting him _touch _them.

These three of the Marauders were, to say, the least of my problems. Their little bloody piece of dung—yeah, that's right, dung, as in d-u-n-g—of a leader, James sod-off-my-arse Potter is the most despicable sixteen-year-old sixth year student at Hogwarts School of Wizardry I have ever come across! Really, he needs to get a life. You heard me—Potter needs to GET A LIFE! And while he's at it, he might as well—

"Er, Lily?"

"What!" I ferociously yelled into the face of a tall, lean sixteen year old boy. His face was pale and his brown eyes seemed a bit frightened. He had a small nose with a huge mouth. Biting my lip, I felt ashamed. This was Frank Longbottom. Kind and caring, with a crush on the beautifully gorgeous Alice Harlem, though neither of them would ever admit it; Frank was a good friend of mine and I immediately regretted snapping at him when he most certainly was not—

"Evans, go out with me?" That voice, that horrid miserable voice. If only I could jump up at the demon and strangle him without having any witnesses, but heads were already lifting up and attention was already being directed towards me. Looking up at the oh so familiar face that brought me such misery, I could barely control myself. He stood next to Frank Longbottom, who began to immediately back up a little so as I would not miss aim and begin to throttle him instead of Potter. Potter's crony, Black, stood a little ways off trying to charm a fifth year Gryffindor girl, while Remus had taken interest in a book, sitting in a chair near Alice, and Peter stood next to him a bit too fascinated by his feet.

Standing up, I turned to Frank and smiled sweetly, "Yes, Frank? Did you need me for something?" I questioned him softly, without any hatred and anger etching into my wonderfully calm voice. Mentally patting myself on the back for not exploding in Potter's face, as he surely intended, I smiled even more innocently.

"Well, er, I was wondering," Frank began, glancing behind me fearfully, "If you could look over my Transfiguration essay for me?" Looking down, I realized he was holding parchment with his neat handwriting covering it, sure to be plentiful with words that would attract an _A_. My smile broadened and I gently took the paper from his large hand.

"I would love to, Frank, dear." Gliding, or at least attempting to, towards the stairs to the girls dormitories, I beamed at my success. But the pride came all too soon for me.

"I certainly praise _you, _Evans. That must have certainly taken a lot of effort." Daring and troubling me to the heart, the voice was a cool drawl—one that had no emotion in it whatsoever. Abruptly halting, I stood still. I swear: no one dared make one sound, not even a mouse. The fire roared within me, along with the fire in the fireplace warming Gryffindor students. My whole body screamed, trying to force me not to reply. I just couldn't bare it, though. That hand sliding through his messy hair that still looked so handsome, his lopsided grin, his eyes which mocked me to the point of ultimate humiliation, and his _stupid _voice, challenging to take on the impossible. Why? Why did he have so much power over me? Perhaps I could have ignored him, but it was too hard. No matter how firm I stood my ground, I _still _could not resist the urge.

"Bugger off, Potter." My voice—it scared me. It was chilled and cold, cold! I couldn't believe it had sounded so…hateful? That's it. I gave him what he wanted. Now I would walk out of the room and he and his friends would laugh at me. Way to go, Potter! You managed to humiliate me again! I just did not understand why he bothered me so much—why what he did and thought mattered to me. So, feeling defeated I quickly left the room, in a quite stiff manner, such as McGonagall.

For some reason, as I shut the door behind me—I did _not _slam it—tears began to tumble down my face. I could not stop them and I felt as if a giant hand had squeezed all the air out of me. Why did I feel like this? It couldn't have been because of Potter, I never breakdown after having any kind of feud with him, I am only a bit angry. Just as I sat down on my bed, Anna Fletcher, one of my good friends, walked in the room. Short black hair draped down right below her shoulders with a slight curl. Tall and slender, like Alice, she was also of the athletic build and perfected the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a chaser. The only characteristic I did not like about this friend of mine was that she was friends with everybody who _would _be friends with her, even some of the Slytherins. This meant that she actually more than put up with Potter; she actually _liked _him. They had gone out for a period of time in fifth year, but after weeks of my complaining, Susan decided to let James Potter continue tormenting me, of course this is not want I had wanted. Now in our sixth year, he hardly lets me alone and it bugs me greatly that Anna sometimes talks with him as if he were a friend. In truth, he was a friend to her.

"Hey Lily, is James bugging you again?" she questioned in her smooth voice. Was he bugging me? Oh, more than that! I despised him with every tiny morsel inside of me, and he knew this—yet, oh woe I, Potter would never dare to stop with his taunts.

"Oh, not at all! As if I would even think to pay attention to him in the first place."

"Lily, really, tell the truth. I heard and saw him as well as I heard and saw you." She claimed in her overly dramatic voice. This was really going a bit too far—why did it matter if Potter ruined my life? Alright, perhaps _that _did matter. But still…Why was she making such a big deal out of this?

"Lily?" she looked at me as I stared dumbly at her. What? I didn't feel like talking right now. Lying down and facing the other direction, I heard footsteps and the door closing. Tired, I began to drift off to sleep. Only then, when I was about to cheerfully enter the world of dreams, did I hear the door open quickly and slammed shut. Loud panting met my ears as I sat up, wondering who in their right mind dared to disturb me at such a time as this. Standing in front of me was a short girl, just a bit taller than me—yes! To my utter despair I am a shrunken dwarf!—with brown hair that bounced in loose curls down to her shoulders, not quite touching them. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and her plump lips formed the perfect smile on her round and gorgeous face.

Only two words fully described this girl—Lucy Valdes. She was my dearest friend here at Hogwarts, School of Wizardry. Even if she did not really mind the marauders, she still supported me in every way she could. As the most sensible and sweetest one, she was the fun loving and still-a-kid friend people cherished the most. Right at this moment, her eyes danced merrily and a sweet smile played onto her lips as she looked at me.

"What?" I questioned, partly fearful of the look she gave me. Obviously, she had been up to something—something not necessarily good. The smile that had played onto her lips suddenly grew and she began to snicker, her eyes dancing.

"Sirius Black read aloud from Delilah Calvins' Diary." She began to laugh hysterically, except her _hysterical _laughter was quite pleasant, it sounded like bells ever-so-elegantly jiggling. Only she could pull off this type of beautiful laughter. To the point of concern at the current moment—Delilah. She was a sixth year girl in Hufflepuff. Light blonde hair curled around her face with the small nose and horribly fake-looking blue eyes. Complete with two non-stop giggling best friends: Patsy and Haiti, she stood as the Barbie mascot of the school. And what a horrible mascot she was! Even though I despised her giggling self very much, I could not see the humor in the situation.

"And what's so funny about this?" I questioned, clearly not interested in the doings of the Marauders, especially at this precise moment. Obviously, my dear friend did not get the hint as I stared at her unblinkingly, and the result: she pulled me off of the bed, dragging me down to the common room.

"His hair is _so amazingly _hot, diary. Sometimes I wish I could touch it," I heard his voice before I even entered the room, though upon entering I resisted greatly. "But of course, nothing could match the looks of James Potter—hey!" I saw Potter shrugging jokingly as he stood next to Black. Still not seeing the humor, I glanced at Blacks other side to see a very unnerving commotion happening. The Marauders had obviously bribed a couple of fifth and fourth year boys to do the unthinkable. Three were dressed oddly, looking dreadfully familiar to Delilah, Patsy and Haiti seeming to fawn over two pictures most likely taken of Potter and Black.

Continuing, Black exaggerated, "Oh, but he's fixed on that horrid flower girl." What _flower_ girl? Really, I did not see the point in this, though the sight of the three boys did look ridiculously hilarious. "I really don't see why he's interested in _her,_" Black said in his fake female voice—a great mimic of Delilah's real voice. "Her head looks as if it's on fire." Wait…that sounded all too familiar. "Besides, she's so short and has her head in the clouds. Little ungrateful prick, she just does not have _any _sense of style. What he sees in Ms. Carrot Top, I'll never know." From the corner of my eye, I saw Potter stiffen slightly. I _certainly_ was stiff. How dare she? This could not be good for my ego. "Seriously, someone of James' style and looks should not chase after such a hag. Ugly duckling for sure, _that's _why her sister hates her, I bet."

I had had enough. Whether they were trying to embarrass me or her, I did not care. Right now, my reputation was in the process of destruction. Gliding through the audience that had gathered throughout the silly, childlike performance, I let my shadow bare down on Black, although I was much shorter than him. Frightened under my intimidating glare, he practically shivered. Snatching the stupid diary from his hands, I marched out of the room, not caring about the few who _dared _snicker in my presence. What an awful day this was turning into. And all of it went to blame the Marauders.

Why they had to humiliate me in the process of someone else's shame, I don't know. Really, what did I ever do to deserve this? The only thing I can think of was when I stole a cookie from the kitchen and blamed Petunia. But is this all just karma? I don't think so. See, that James Potter seems to literally _feed _off of my mortification. It's as if he lives to tease me and ruin my life—why? If only I knew. As I was deep in my thoughts, contemplating whether Potter was just amused by my shame or if he actually had some secret mission that involved turning my life into complete misery, Lucy walked into our corridors. She looked quite funny. A straight mouth with frowning eyebrows and a disapproving look in her eyes covered her face. I did everything to just keep from smiling—Lucy never could pull off a serious face quite right, and it pained her greatly.

"I am terribly sorry, Lily!" she fell onto my lap in a dramatic style. Poor girl, she was just not the serious type whatsoever. At least she was trying for _my _sake. "I truly did not know they would do such a terrible, awful, _horrifying _thing! Truthfully, I don't think they even read over her diary before their little performance. It's just it was extremely comical at first."

"It's alright, dear," I tried to comfort her. What a deprived child! Didn't she understand that I could never be mad at her?

"No it's _not _alright! I cannot believe…" Lucy continued to babble on endlessly. Now _this _was getting a bit tiring. While she continued to mumble about how sorry she was, I began to compare Anne Frayne's transfiguration essay to mine. She had asked me to read it for her, probably showing off and thinking it was perfect or something. Well, her essay was pretty good, but _nothing _could ever compare to my essay. Imprudent girl! She'll never know what hit her!

"Lily! Are you even listening to me?" Err…………"Lily…are you in there? Hello!" Lucy began to wave her hand in front of my face talking strangely. Yes. I am in here…Can you hear me? Wow, I have peculiar friends.

"Sorry, Lucy. I guess I zoned out for a second. Really, though, you should not trouble yourself over an apology. It wasn't _your _fault. And I'm not really perturbed at all. Truthfully." Well, maybe a _bit _perturbed…Alright, I admit: I am completely enraged by the whole situation. But, I'm not angry with Lucy—the marauders are the target of my fury, as usual. At least Christmas would be a break from the stress they brought me. The last couple of years, the Marauders had gone away for the Christmas holiday, thank God, and during the first two years when they did not, I had went home. Finally, when I had stopped returning home for the Christmas holidays, it was fourth year, and they continued their tradition to meet at Pot-head's house for the holiday. _One more month…_

"I guess, but if I hadn't pulled you into the common room…"

"I would have showed up at Breakfast tomorrow morning with me not knowing why the whole Gryffindor table was laughing at me. Seriously, it's not your fault, and I am glad that I was able to interfere. Now, I am a bit tired and would like to get some sleep. Night, Luce." Wow, I'm not really a bit tired, I'm exhausted. This certainly has been an odd day.

**There it is—the first chapter of my beautiful story. Please let me know how it went…by REVIEWING. Seriously, reviews make me feel better inside. **

**Smileyfacedudet:.**


	2. Muttering and Moaning

**Here's the Next installment to my lovely Fanfic! I pray you like it!**

**.:Disclaimer I own nothing of J.K. Rowling's**

**Smileyfacedudet:.**

My eyes opened groggily, as I realized today was Friday—the day _after _Thursday. Yay…Well, I'm certainly being enthusiastic today. Today was not merely the day after Thursday, it was the day after I was humiliated in the Gryffindor common room—it was the day I would go to breakfast and hear stupid people whispering about me behind my back. It would be the day—wow, I think I'm overreacting. I mean, it _was _Delilah's diary, not mine. All hell would break loose if _anybody, _that is besides me, myself, and I, were to read my diary—well, journal. His name is Pez. Nice, huh? I mean, I store all my secret thoughts in there, I _doodle _in there, that journal is my property and God forbid it if anyone besides I were to even _touch _it. For the only time in my life—and this would remain the only time—I sympathized with Delilah. Wow, I'm getting pretty soft towards a girl who I have written about killing in my _own _journal.

So, back to the point…Err, what was the point? Oh, yeah—my humiliation today. Well, it could certainly not be worse than Delilah's humiliation. Maybe _she'll _be the target and everyone will forget about me. Maybe. Of course, it's not like I'll get anywhere if I just lie in bed all day. Though, that _is _an idea…

"LILY!" And _that _would be the wrath of Mary Smith in the morning. I suppose she was somewhat of a good friend to me, but not one of my _really _good friends. She just wasn't actually interested in the things my friends and I were interested with. Not that my friends and I were interested in _exactly _the same things. For example, she held an obsession with boys, clothes, and make-up. It got extremely tiring when she ranted on about things such as Pot-head and his side kick, Mr. Blackhead. Whether they would like this hair style or that hair style better; it got annoying, but she was at least sweet unlike most girls holding her interests. (cough _Delilah_) Even if she was not the smartest girl around, we still enjoyed having her in our company, well, sometimes.

"LILY! Have you seen my Transfiguration essay!" She came up to me as I sat up groggily in my comfortable bed. Shivering, because it was tremendously cold, I looked at her wearily with mountains of sleep in my eyes. Oh, yeah: the most annoying thing about Mary was that she _always _forgot where she put things, principally school work and books. Sighing, I dramatically swung my head around glancing at our room. There, under a pile of Anna's dirty clothes, was Mary's essay.

"Under Anna's dirty clothes." As I muttered this, I fell back onto my bed, snuggling further into the sheets and blankets. Just as I was drifting off into a peaceful doze, Mary interrupted my serene state.

"Thanks, Lily," She said in a loud, clear voice. God, it sounded like she was yelling into my ear. "Err…" Yes, you _can _get on with it! You don't have to take all day, you know. "Lily, you might want to get up now." With that, I heard the door slam behind me. Grumpy, I glanced briefly at the clock. Yeah, I still had five minutes till class started. Let's see, Transfiguration would be first today, along with Potions to follow—ugh, Slughorn—and after that—WAIT! Five minutes! Looking back at the clock, I realized that I _did _only have five minutes till Transfiguration. Jumping out of bed, I raced to my closet and threw it open. No time to take a shower—oh well, it's not like I sweat a lot. So, after pulling on my clothes, brushing my teeth, combing my firing mane and spraying perfume on myself to be sure I wouldn't smell, all within three minutes, I raced down the hall with my books in hand, only two minutes to spare. The moving staircases didn't help my cause, nor did the fact that Peeves shouted _really _loud, "EVANS IS GOING TO BE LATE!" ten thousand times, while flying behind me as I sped to Transfiguration. Luckily, I threw open the door, panting like a mad woman, and stepped into the room right before the bell rang. Unluckily, all eyes were on me as students made their way to their seats.

"It is so nice of you to join us, Ms. Evans. Why don't you have a seat?" Professor McGonagall said calmly, but I could tell she was a bit perturbed. Of course, because of my stupid, teachers-pet personality, I felt guilty. As I dragged my feet to my seat, I could hear people muttering. I swear, either I was paranoid, or people like to talk about me _a lot. _Never the less, I sat down, pulling out my Transfiguration essay.

"Today, class, you will turn in your essay about the hazards of complex transfiguration. Afterwards, you will pair up, however you like, with someone and work on transfiguring an inanimate object into a living, mystical creature. The inanimate object you will be using is a feather which you will be transfiguring into a pixie. Of course, the feathers _are _in cages, for pixies are quite dangerous annoyances, and you will not be permitted to take either feather _or _pixie out of the cage you are handed." With this said, Professor McGonagall started handing out cages. As she finished with the cages and started collecting the essays, she added, "Please be careful and fully aware about the notes you _should _have taken yesterday about such a transfiguration. Lastly, Good Luck." Moving back to her seat, ever so McGonagall-like, she frowned as she walked past me, and we all began to chose our partners and start with the challenge our ever so lovely teacher had given to us today.

Lucy headed towards me, and I gave her a sweet smile. Of course she already knew I was going to give her hell, so before I could say anything when she sat down, she said, "Listen, Lily, I know you're going to blame me for not waking you up, but I really did try." I stared at her. Well, did you try dumping ice cold water on me? _No. _Hmmm, that's what I thought. Sure, I would have been upset with the rude awakening, but at least I would have not been late—_almost late—_and I would have had some food in my stomach. I continued staring, which somehow had turned into a glare now, while she concentrated on transfiguring the feather into a pixie. She got the feather to shoot around the cage like a pixie, but did not succeed in fully transfiguring the feather. Sighing, making sure the sigh sounded as if I was annoyed, I transfigured the feather into a pixie and back again. Looking at me she continued, but I caught the hesitation she had shown before talking again, "Listen, Lily. It's just you are always up before everyone else, and this was new. Besides, you were, well, sort of _muttering_."

I swung my head to stare at her. What? "Muttering?" I repeated. She has got to be kidding! Number one: I never talk in my sleep. Number two: I never mutter. Number three: The whole idea of me _muttering _in my _sleep_ was kind of preposterous. A smile played on my lips—there was no way she wasn't joking. "_I _was _muttering?_ Really, Lucy, this is not a time to be teasing."

"I'm not lying, Lily. _You _were _muttering._"

"But _I _never _mutter. _I don't even talk in my sleep."

"I swear, Lily, _you _were _muttering._"

"Wait a second—_Evans _was _muttering?_" A long arm swung around my shoulders. Great. Just my luck. "Wow, Evans, you never _mutter._" A mocking grin stood in place on the face with a long nose, black eyes, and topped with slick black hair. Most girls would faint having Siruis Black _this _close to them, but he was just an annoyance on my part—a very _annoying _annoyance.

"Don't wet your pants, Black—_I _was not _muttering._" I shrugged his arm off my shoulders and looked back at the cage. After turning the feather into a pixie and back into a feather a couple times, Anna came up to me.

"Hey, Lily, how's it going?" She smiled sweetly and raised the cage. It contained a _very _un-pixie-like pixie. Lying on the floor of the cage, it seemed to be having a terrible case of hiccups. "Mary can't get her pixie to, well, be a pixie, either." Glancing at Mary, I saw she was currently banging her head on the table and inside her cage was a pixie that was staring straight ahead and _drooling._

"Don't worry, Anna. Your pixie is better than mine." Black comforted Anna, holding up his cage, which currently contained a _dead _pixie. Truthfully it did look kind of funny, with it being lifeless and all. I certainly did not mind feeling no sympathy for the corpse whatsoever, since pixies were somewhat _worse _than Black, and in some ways worse than Potter (Hey! They didn't say, _Evans, go out with me, _ten times a day—not that I keep count, ten times a day is just an estimation.)

"At least you turned your feather into a pixie." Lucy looked exasperated. I felt quite sorry for her at this moment and decided to forget about being mad at her long enough to help her.

"It's easy, all you have to do is feel carefree as a pixie, and wave your hand not so heavily, like it's as light as a feather. Also—"

"_You _feel carefree? Doesn't really seem like it." I glared at Black. Well, _now, _Mr. Blackhead, I am frustrated with _you. _Loser. Turning back to Lucy, I opened my mouth to speak to Lucy, only to be interrupted _again _by mister pokey-face. "So, what were you muttering about, Lilykins?" Number one: Never call me that freaking name again, barf-face; Number two: _I _was not _MUTTERING!_

"_I wasn't muttering"_

"Oh—this morning, yeah, that was odd." Darn you, Anna. Why? Alright, perhaps I was muttering, though I highly doubt it—still, why tell Black that I _might _have been muttering? In all the sane things people do, which are few—what Anna just did was perfectly and absolutely _not _sane.

"What was she _muttering _about?" John Higgins, one of the Ravenclaw sixth years asked, inviting himself into the conversation, which I preferred not to be happening at all. Lucy began to say, _nothing in particular, _but was unfortunately, for my sake—and Anna's—cut off, by none other than Anna.

"Well, actually, it was shocking and quite hilarious. Lily was muttering in her sleep about _James._" I stared at her. _What did you say, woman? _I'm sorry, but perhaps I did not hear you CORRECTLY! Alright, calm down, Lily—you are just _overreacting. _If I was even muttering this morning, and if it was about Pothead, I might have just been complaining about him. Heh, nothing to worry about—

"What was she saying about me?" Oh hell. _That _cannot be good. Alright, this is it—I am taking full responsibility to end this conversation _right _now. Glancing over at Anna, I saw she looked kind of, well, scared. Well, Anna baby, you were going to tell Black, and it's not like he would not have told Potter. Besides, what I said couldn't have been that bad, could it?

"Alright," Professor McGonagall said in her monotonous yet sharp tone, "Hopefully all of you have successfully done today's task, for you will be tested next class. If you need help, come and speak to me before the day after tomorrow, so you may set up a time to practice privately with me. Good day to all of you." I sighed. Saved by the professor—no wonder I'm such a teacher's pet. As students began filing out, I started walking with my books also. Unfortunately, the people who were involved in the dreaded conversation before did follow me, to my utmost despair. Mary walked over to join us.

"Hey, wow that pixie thing was really a drag," She complained. Poor girl, Transfiguration was her weakest subject. "So why _are _you three following us?" She glanced at Potter, Black, and John shyly, twisting a strand of hair around two fingers.

Oh God—they were going to start it again. I could just see it coming, and the horror of it made me shiver. Before anyone could answer Mary, I replied, "They are _following _us, because they are _idiots._"

"Actually, my sweet little flower, we wished to know why you were so-called _muttering _about me in your sleep with that pretty voice of yours." With all of his magnificent charm, he winked at me (which was strangely odd…) and slid his conniving little arm around my waist, pulling me against his body. I swear—my heart skipped two beats. Not that I _like _being in this position, it's just a little unnerving when you're this close to any guy. I mean, being hugged to where your whole body fit perfectly next to another body is completely different from being close to someone, or even snogging them. Disgusted that I actually was _touching _Potter, I tried to pull away, only to be forced into a tighter, touchier embrace.

Mary giggled. _That _wasn't a good sign. Not that she giggled—she always giggles—but the bad sign had to do with the _type _of giggle. It was a _I'm-about-to-tell-everybody-a-secret _type of giggle. Panicking I began to say something, like _Bugger off, Potter,_ you know: my usual, and pull her away, but she began talking before a single sound left my mouth. It was only because I was being squished against James Bloody Potter. "Oh, yeah—this morning." Another giggle. I see some foreshadowing with all these giggles. It didn't help either that I was trying to keep in step with Potter, pull out of his iron-like grip, stop Mary from saying anything, and worrying about what she _could _say all at the same time. "Well, I wouldn't say she was exactly _muttering. _I mean, Lily never _mutters._" Wow, I wasn't expecting _that._ Praise the Lord! Maybe, everyone was just trying to scare me, or perhaps Mary would be sensible for once.

"I'd say she was _moaning._" I froze. Potter released me and I pulled as far away as I could, but never did I take my eyes off that traitor. Speechless and appalled, I gaped at her. It was obvious everyone was surprised, but Potter recovered first.

"You were _moaning _about me, Evans?" Smiling ever so charming, he chuckled, only to have Black join in laughing hysterically. Desperate to not have myself humiliated any more today, I prepared to explode in their faces. But I was too late.

"Well, she wasn't moaning _about_ you." My luck has sunken too low to rise up again; there has to be something worse than moaning about Potter, though I couldn't think of what. "She was _moaning _your _name._" Yeah, that was worse.

"No she wasn't! You've got it all wrong, Mary." So help me now, _after _Mary humiliates me. Lucy looked around the small group which now seemed to be growing by the second. "Lily wasn't moaning James' name; she was muttering his name, like…like…she was angry at him." Even if she was trying to help, she wasn't doing that great of a job, especially considering the fact that she ended her statement more as a question than a statement. Potter was looking at me oddly, and I could feel my face heating as I looked down at my feet. Mary was going to get hell.

"Lily Evans was moaning James Potter's name?" Perfect: now my mortification would never end. Delilah Calvins, along with Patsy and Haiti, walked into the middle of the ring of people gathering around us. She had an evil grin plastered on her fake-looking face, and I immediately saw her plan: she was going to distract everybody from the Marauders' performance last night by building on my humiliation. Mary is _dead meat._ "_Ohhh, James! James Potter….James, mmm…" _That little perverted—"Were you dreaming about him snogging you to death, Evans? Or were _you _the one snogging _him _senseless. Perhaps, in your dream, you were doing a bit more," That perverted little cheapskate of a sadistic girl, "Of course, you have never even snogged anyone before, well, maybe a toad, or a—"

WHAM!

_ That _should give everyone something to talk about for a while: Lily Evans totally punched the guts out of Delilah Calvins! I know—slapping would have been a bit, well, better: but to see her nose bleed like that! The problem was I definitely _did not _expect Delilah to hit back. She didn't exactly hit back, though, she more of leapt at me, snarling freakishly. Basically, she tackled me, and her being taller and, well, bigger than me (think of it like a sixth year and a fourth year, me being the fourth year obviously) did not help at all. I hit my head on something hard and I felt her nails digging into my skin. The agony! God, why _are _her nails so sharp—wait—those are her _teeth _on my arm, and her nails were digging into my face, which felt like it was burning. Ewe! She was biting me, and certainly drawing blood. I kicked my knee into her stomach in an attempt to get her off of me, but it only caused her to cling on more. Wow, I never knew she was this good in a fight.

One more kick got an "_oof" _out of her, but she still clung to me savagely with her nails and teeth. Finally I started hitting her head with my free hand, which I had to tug free from underneath her first, but that plan did not work anyway. Then she was being pulled off of me; I could tell because she was hanging onto me while pulling back. This didn't really help, because I was still blinded by even more pain, and she was just pulling me with her. Someone, who must have been awfully strong, _then _had the sense to pull on me, and the savage beast of a blonde chic let go of me. I was now bleeding like crazy on my face and the arm she chose to gnaw on, and the air meeting my face stung it.

I must have hit my head pretty hard because everything was spinning around and around. Then I heard a deep, musical voice that did sound a bit concerned saying, "I believe she hit her head, Professor." No duh! I mean if the blood trickling down on the side of my head didn't hint at that piece of information, maybe my not being able to stand up would give it away. The "someone" who pulled me from my death—alright, not my death, but they _did _pull me from that horrid fight—still held me in their arms, and I slumped against them. _That's _when I realized the "someone" was Potter. Great.

I kept momentarily blacking out until I finally lost it. Yes, I'll only admit it this once: I fainted. I'd like to think more that I _passed out. _But the worst was, I totally fell down and was still conscious long enough to feel Potter catch me and begin carrying me. First off: my reputation is ruined. Second: I utterly feel like crud.

**I hope you liked it! Please review, people!**

**Smileyfacedudet:.**


	3. Another Sticky Situation?

**Hey, I know it's been a long time but I'm gonna try to be better! **

**Disclaimer: Lily & the rest of the characters tht aren't mine are J.K. Rowling's. yeah, you get the point.**

I feel like crud. My head is throbbing, my whole body aching, and I'm sitting in Dumbledore's office with both Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall frowning down upon me. _And _to top it all off I am sitting next to the very reason I feel like crud.

Finally, Professor Bud, the Hufflepuff house head and Herbology teacher, walked—actually, more like hobbled—into the room. Glancing sadly at me, for I was one of his favorite students, he moved to stand beside Professor McGonagall. He was a bubbly elderly man with a pot belly and two round rosy cheeks. Something told me he would have preferred to have me in his House rather than _that horrid girl—_most likely because I wasn't _almost _failing his class miserably.

Just thinking about _her _made me feel sick. At the moment, I wasn't sure whether me actually _being _in a fight or the fact that she _beat _me in a fight was worse. We both ended up in the hospital wing with Madam Fellini scowlingdown upon us. Although Delilah's broken nose had been incredibly magnificent, it was now healed, as well as my bites and scratches. Of course, I still was cursed with bruises all over my poor, beaten body. It wasn't fair—I know that I'm in the wrong, but she was the one to hit _back. _

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Now, I am very disappointed"—at this moment he looked directly towards me—"in both of you. Your house heads and I have discussed your punishments while you were in the hospital wing, and we decided to give both of you detention with Mr. Filch for three months. Your detentions, as we do not wish you to be distracted from your schoolwork, will be only three nights a week. On Sundays, Mondays, and Fridays, you will meet Mr. Filch in the Trophy room, unless he instructs you to do otherwise, which he most likely will. Also, you may receive notice to complete a detention on another night instead of one of the ones given. The detentions will start on Sunday. That will be all. Anything to add, Professor McGonagall, Professor Bud?"

"Yes," McGonagall had spoken up as Bud shook his head, "I would like to inform Lily Evans, as she is in my house," oh crud, "that if she misbehaves in the slightest way ever again, she _will _lose her Prefect position." _Noooooo! _"And if she were to be involved in such a quarrel with another student during the rest of her time here, I will _refuse _to allow her to stay in my house. And, sir," turning to Dumbledore, she complied, "I believe you will have the heart to expel her from Hogwarts." _Double crud. _Really, though, I mess up _once, _and the lady acts like I'm a misfit or something. As if I'm a _Marauder. _"I suppose you will agree, Professor Bud, and say the same for your student, even though she isn't a prefect?" With that, Bud nodded and Dumbledore sent us on our way.

Delilah sniffed as she went down a different hall and I had a strong feeling that Madam Fellini did not heal her nose _all _the way. Well, it serves her right. It was now around eight in the evening, and everyone was probably hanging out in their common rooms. _That _meant everybody would be in the Gryffindor common room when I walked into it. Great. Since it was Friday, many students would stay up much later, probably chatting about the events of the day, which meant they would be talking about the fight and the _reason _that caused the fight. Perfect. Sometimes, I really do think there is a conspiracy going on to make my life miserable.

After dragging my feet down the halls I finally came to a stop before the portrait of the fat lady. She smiled at me, showing sympathy, and asked how I was doing. I said fine and took a deep breath before giving her the password—wiggle worms. The portrait swung open and I stepped into the common room.

Hanging my head down, so others could not see the ashamed look on my face as well as the growing redness, I started to make my way to the sixth year Gryffindor girls' room. Certainly well aware of the hushed voices and quick glances that were supposed to be inconspicuous, I cringed when I heard Potter's voice behind me. "Hey, Evans?" I swung around to find Potter only about two or three feet away from me. He brought his hand up, more hesitantly than confidently, sliding it through his unruly jet-black hair causing it to mess up even more than it had been. As much as I _hated _when he did that, for some reason, since the end of fifth year, my knees began to weaken and I felt like just _melting _whenever he did it, or any other James-like thing, for that matter Trust me; feeling like melting is _not _a good feeling at all.

"What, Potter? Have you got something to say to me?" I questioned coldly, glaring at him. Stupid git, didn't he have at least the _heart _to just leave me ALONE.

He frowned at first, but then smiled evilly. Have I mentioned how much I detest him? "Evans, go out with me?" Cocking his head to the side as my eyes flashed at him, he continued before I could reply, "I just thought that you must _really, really _want me since you were moaning my name." Black was laughing in a corner while Remus was shaking his head and everyone else was either _trying _to not pay attention or snickering quietly.

"Look, Potter, I don't _care _what my friends said, but you should not have the nerve to say that to me. I am this close," at this point, I held my index finger and thumb not even half an inch apart, "from reaching my breaking point and throwing you in the lake with the giant squid in it hoping that the squid would eat you alive." With that I snapped around, making sure my hair flung in his face. After stomping into my room and shutting the door, I faced the three girls who helped make my life miserable, plus Alice. Ah, Alice, working so peacefully on her Potions essay while lying in her bed. Who could _not _love Alice?

"Hey, Lily," Lucy said after a moment of hesitation. I stared at her, then I looked at Anna and finally, I looked at Mary. Alright, Lily, you can't do anything that would get you in trouble, but perhaps if you made it to where no one found out…"Listen, Lily, I know right now, your planning our deaths and how not to get caught." That girl knows me all too well. "But could you not forgive us? I mean, sure we probably should have confronted you in a more, err, private manner, but everyone makes mistakes. Even _you _mess up every now and then—"

"Oh, yeah, _I_ sure do mess up a lot. Like that time in fourth year I _lied,_ that's it: lied, as in L-I-E-D, to Professor McGonagall for you because you were too embarrassed to walk around all day with that stupid hex."

"Black made me have chickenpox! _Neon green _chickenpox! Moreover, I had to tell McGonagall you were sick when Potter hexed your hair purple. And besides, that was completely different from the point I was making." She looked at me with pleading puppy eyes. I swear, Lucy was the only girl, or person for that matter, who could successfully pull off that look. For a second, but only a second, my heart softened a bit but then, it went back to being stone cold.

"You told everyone that I was moaning James Potter's name in my sleep!" I shrieked knowing people from the common room probably heard that. Instantly regretting my mistake, I quieted my voice a bit, but still managed to sound angry. "I thought you people were my friends, but you have stooped to the _Marauders' _level today and I don't know if I shall ever be able to trust you again!"

"Wait," This curious voice came from Alice, who was now fully interested and involved in our conversation. "They said you were moaning James's name in your sleep?" She gave me a blank stare for a couple of seconds, but then slowly—very slowly, might I add—a smile crept onto her face. Then, to everyone's surprise, she began to giggle only to start hysterically laugh. We stared at her, dumbfound.

"What _**now**_?" I questioned quite exasperated by now.

"They've got it all wrong!" She managed to somehow say why rolling on her bed in the middle of hysterics. "You weren't _moaning _his name!" Great, now what? I was seductively calling to him? Ewe. _That _thought certainly gave me shivers. Finally, though, Alice seemed to have recovered now and as she sat up she said to me, "Merlin, Lily, I was right by you when you started to talk. All you said was, _No, I will not go out with you James Potter._"

My jaw dropped.

"But that's not what you _told _us!" cried Lucy. "You said she moaned his name." She looked around at the others for support and they all nodded. Why did I have to share a dormitory with a bunch of crazed _deaf _lunatics?

"No I said it _sounded_ like she was moaning his name, because she held it out longer than the rest of the words and, well, her voice kind of died down at the end." Great, now there was a stupid rumor going around the school that was probably being blown out of proportion at this very instant when it was blown out of proportion to begin with. You know, I should write a book about this and other misadventures I've gotten into with these psychotic misfits. And it should be titled, _What Makes Lily Evans's Life a Living Hell. _

"Please excuse me while I go drown myself with horrid thoughts of how tomorrow could possibly be worse than today." I smiled brightly, then dragged my feet to my bed and fell onto it with a groan of distress in order to emphasize to my friends how horrible my life was at this moment. And it was all because of them.

I was actually starting to believe that I was wrong. But, then again I am never _wrong. _Just saying that word and "I" in the same sentence is ridiculously hilarious. Come on——how could I, Lily Evans—top sixth year female student at Hogwarts School of Wizardry—be wrong? Preposterous, I say, completely and horrifically absurd. Today isSaturday, the day _after _Friday—the day after _the_ Friday in which my life was destroyed by a bunch of useless misfitted juvenile delinquents. And, _no, _this bunch of useless misfitted juvenile delinquents is NOT the Marauders. They are my friendsYes, the very same friends I trust—_used _to trust—with my life.

Back to it being Saturday, though—Saturday morning in fact—it turned out that I was not in a bad mood at all. Waking up to the beautiful birds chirping outside, I was not disturbed by my insolent friends, for they had already gone to breakfast. Yes, I overslept and it felt wonderful to catch up on some of the sleep I had been missing. Well, I figured if I stayed in the dormitory all day then I would not be humiliated and my day would be perfect. The only problem, of course, would be food, but I could probably force Lucy to smuggle me up something when I became unbearably hungry.

At that moment I realized that I would need a book from the library to work on my Potions essay. Sure, I could get Lucy to get it for me, but something told me she would not be around for a while and I felt quite restless. So, hoping not many people would be in the common room, I decided to take the risk of ruining my good mood—_and _worsening my already ruined life. Walking shyly into the common room, I found a few people doing homework or whatnot, but mostly everyone continued working as I sneaked out through the portrait. Casually skipping to the library, ducking my head down and hurriedly walking away every time someone walked passed me, I did not bother to take notice of where my feet were taking me. That is why, as I took a sharp turn around a corner, I whammed head first into a very tall, masculine, and _comfortable _person. Quickly apologizing, I stepped back, only to trip over that person's feet and rapidly fall to the ground. Of course, the person I had ran into thought of the grand idea to pull my arm towards him (most definitely a male student) in a rescue attempt, but only succeeded in causing me to fall on top of him in quite an interesting position. Guess who the person I am currently lying on top of is?

"God, Evans, I never realized you were so anxious to shag me." A deep, taunting voice loudly whispered in my ear. As my face went brick red I jumped off immediately only to run into someone else in my haste.

"Siruis, stop teasing her on such a sensitive topic." James Potter reprimanded as he stood in front of me with one hand barely touching my hip, seeing as he had been the second person I had run into. Perfect; just _perfectly _charming that I run into two of the most daring, arrogant, and bothersome prats out of the whole school while trying to avoid everyone, especially the one who currently _still _had his hand on my waist. I mean, it's not like I could simply talk about trivial things such as the weather and escape with the two staring confusedly as I walk away, only to realize I had distracted them five minutes after I left and was already making my way to, say, Switzerland. Wait a minute…that was an ingenious and utterly _splendid _plan!

"Siruis, James; it is _extremely _nice to run into you!"

"It is?" Siruis questioned confusedly while scratching the back of his head and looked over at his lovely comrade, who just slightly shrugged.

"Why, yes!" I exclaimed while inwardly gagging at the revolting pair as I sweetly—and falsely—acknowledged them as if they were two dear friends of mine. "Don't you think the weather is wonderfully _gorgeous _today? Well nice chatting, but I'm afraid I have somewhere I currently need to be, so tootles!" I falsely smiled and attempted to scurry away, but, unfortunately, Potter got a hold of my elbow and pulled me closer, leaving no room for escape and turning my plan into an utterly disastrous failure.

"Evans, are you feeling alright?" He questioned with a somewhat concerned expression on his face. Black nodded behind him, grimacing in the process.

"Yeah, since when do you say _tootles_?"

Dramatically sighing, I felt trapped, yet for once, probably because of the sincerity in Potter's eyes, I did not try to run away or yell hell into his face. "Well, to tell the truth, I'm not really happy about running into the two of you…"

"Are you ever?" Siruis snorted as I glared at him for interrupting me. I had half a mind to use my beautiful, strong, rock-hard biceps in order to pull from Potter's grasp, but the perplexing look in his dreamy, warm hazel eyes seemed to beg me to go on as his tight embrace…er…What the hell am I thinking?

"Stop looking at me like that, Potter"

"You're the one staring at me as if you want to shag me. I swear—is that drool on your lip?"

"I cannot believe you ventured to say such an unlikely, disrespectful thing. Besides, I don't drool."

"Well, love, then why haven't you broken from my grasp yet—it has been at least five minutes."

"Maybe I haven't thrown myself from your butt-ugly ape-ish arms yet _because _you are too strong."

"Did you just admit that I was too strong for you, my dear?"

"Well, isn't it obvious, seeing as you're always practicing on the Quidditch Pitch?"

"Do you watch me or something?"

"Why would I in all bloody hell sit and watch you, Potter?"

"Because I'm hot."

"And obviously over-conceited."

"Do you realize that you avoided my question?"

"What question?"

"About watching me…"

"Why would I _watch _you?"

"See! You just avoided my question by answering with another question."

"Er…"

"You _do _watch me, Evans!"

"I'm not exactly stalker material, Potter."

"But you watch me."

"…Just shut it already and let me go, Pot-Head."

"…"

"What?"

"…"

"Did you just call him _Pot-Head_?"

Blinking in surprise, I glanced from Potter to Black, and realized that I had indeed called Potter "Pot-Head", the nickname I usually keep hidden between me, myself, and I. And occasionally my friends. But mostly I only call him that in my mind, when I'm thinking. Like right now, while two bloody gits are staring at me waiting for a reply, one of them being Pot-Head. See, I _call _him that because his head is probably full of pot…And probably multiple other interesting, lame, or perverted things. Genius, eh? I should probably get to clearing this whole mess up and all.

"No…" God, they are _so _stupid sometimes.

"But you just—"

"No I didn't just."

"I swear—"

"Swearing is bad for the soul, Potter."

"But you know you did—"

"I did nothing."

"Really, though, I'm pretty sure—"

"That you're a huge pumping arse-hole of a bloody git?" I finished affirmatively as both of the flops just stared at me trying to figure out if I really did say what I said to their faces or not.

"Did you just call James a—"

"It's all in your head, boys. You know, you should be wary of some of the food strangers offer you to eat." I nodded my head and put on a caring and sympathizing expression, and then lowered my voice to dramatically say, "It could be drugged."

"Or perhaps you're the one drugged, Evans." Potter whispered deeply into my ear, suddenly—very suddenly, might I add—changing the mood as his soft, heated breath trickled over my skin in a steamy sensation causing me to burst in agony since right at this moment I really wanted to twist around and enter what could possibly be the most heavenly snogging session in my whole life…Again, what the _hell _am _I _thinking?! Seriously, it is as if whenever I'm this close to Potter, little evil demons take over my mind sending tiny traitorous thoughts tingling throughout my body and soul. I mean, I am _the _Lily Evans who is the most unlikely person to be swept off her feet by James Potter, so why in God's name do I feel so…_comfortable_ whenever he gets close to me? Eeew. Gross. Despicable. Very un-Lily of me. Of course, it has to be taken into consideration that people like, say, Snape would be more unlikely to fall for Potter…but then again, who knows what goes on in these boys' minds? Somehow, the picture of Potter and Snape seemed a bit scarier than Potter and I. Okay, _a lot _scarier.  
"Evans, why are you looking at me like _that_?" Potter, who had pulled back a little but still had one hand lightly resting on my waist while the other gently held my wrist, questioned me with a very confused look. Sexy as he was, though, I could not seem to rid myself of the horrendous images that had seeped into my mind—damn demons—and so, with my innocence ruined, I gaped back at him with a helpless look of disgust on my face.

"Er….." Right at this moment, I believe that I was speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say? _Well, Potter, see, I was just imagining you…and Snape in some very interesting situations—or should I say positions? Yes, that is most certainly the right word to use. _There was no doubt in my mind that saying something like that would ruin my reputation as well as embarrass the hell out of Potter. Considering that I care more about myself than Potter's embarrassment, I had nothing to say. So, while Potter's grasp was still weak, _and _while the helpless expression of disgust remained on my face, I immediately, after considering the situation along with the consequences of whatever action I decided to take, pulled back in yet another escape attempt. Unfortunately, Potter's grasp was a bit stronger and because of, er, most likely karma, I tripped over the rug in the hallway only to fall and have Potter fall right on top of me. How convenient.

Even though recently I had fallen on Black, who was now laughing and whistling as well as making perverted remarks in the background, I had not really been embarrassed then. To explain my ill-fortunate humiliation now, let's just say that my whole face was burning redder than what my hair had ever been, and there was, indeed, once a time when I was younger that my hair was pretty damn bloody red. See, this wasn't your typical "boy on girl" scenario—hell this wasn't even the typical "Potter on Evans" scenario. Oh _no_. This was much worse.

**Howdy All! Or should I say **_**One **_**since only one person chose to review my story (two of the reviewers felt obligated to review since I kinda already know them…and that was chapter uno)**

**Anyway, lots of thanx goes out to **_**spiderlily**_** for being my ahem **_**soul **_**reviewer—I really appreciated your review! It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter cause in the next one a lot of juicy stuff is gonna happen. By the way, when I say "juicy" I don't mean stuff btwn Lily and James (though there might be some of that too…), I mean juicy stuff that will contribute to the plot. Yes, little Lily's gonna take on the role of Nancy Drew!**

**So read & review. oh yeah, if anyone's interested in being a beta for this story, mention it in a REVIEW. I'll be sure to contact you! Of course, I am also prepared for the heartbreak when I get no reviews. Sure, this story isn't the best, but hey, I think it deserves some reviews. Call me a review whore, I wouldn't deny it. Okay, maybe I would…but, still. Send me some love here—and reviews. **

**.:Smiley:.**


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